


Loving Hating You

by mimityty



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Crack, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Sexual Themes, Slow Burn, i'm really sorry mom, maybe smut later on, tbh i'm so confused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimityty/pseuds/mimityty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God, if Hamilton could hate Jefferson any more, the tension could break someone's neck. I mean, it's already cleared out enough rooms, right? And, christ, if Jefferson kept talking, Hamilton would have to do something drastic to shut him up. [possible smut later on]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tension

**Author's Note:**

> This is a modern AU.  
> In our story, we center around Jefferson/Hamilton, but the relationships (romantic or platonic) mentioned will be as follows: Hamilton/Laurens, Jefferson/Madison, and Hamilton/Eliza.  
> This will be pretty angsty eventually, but don't expect much from me, I'm just a gay high schooler.

"Secretary Hamilton, your response?"  
"I wasn't listening, but I disagree with Jefferson."  
A groan rings through the courtroom.  
Things like this have been going on ever since Jefferson and Hamilton met. Disagreements on every turn, hissing and glaring at each statement, things that would normally make anyone else shiver. The two were very resilient. If anyone were too unlucky to get between their stares, the tension would send them into some odd state of discomfort.  
The politicians had almost the same ideas, too. They just... loved hating each other. Hamilton would come into work every day anticipating their next debate. Jefferson would spend hours in the mirror each morning, knowing he'd have to look better than Hamilton-- "won't take much effort," Madison would reply with-- and he'd always make fun of Hamilton for his lack of sense of style.  
In the past week, unfortunately for the rest of the court, Hamilton and Jefferson had been through some tough shit. Eliza, Alexander's wife, ran off with her sister Angelica to their father's once more, despite the previous summer's antics. Jefferson had gone through a bit more than a few disagreements of his own, and Madison had gone off somewhere again, leaving the two of them without the factors of their lives that kept them from killing each other. Washington was the only person who could grab them both by the collar and tell them to behave, and he couldn't do much anything when work was over.  
"Secretary Jefferson?"  
"I apologize, mister Washington, I was far too busy-"  
"Fantasizing about Alex?" Someone called from across the room. Jefferson snarled before sighing and looking back.  
"-thinking about a solution to this problem. I'm afraid I didn't hear your point." George sighed.  
"Meeting adjourned." And with that, the courtroom cleared, leaving Hamilton furiously writing down notes and Jefferson watching him with a sense of both disgust and curiosity.  
"Hey," Washington called. "You two. I'm locking up in here, so either debate through the morning or leave."  
"Don't worry, sir," Jefferson replied. "I'll lock up. If you leave the keys-"  
"I'm sorry, secretary Jefferson, but I only entrust secretary Hamilton with locking up."  
A scoff.  
"I'll leave you to it, then. Hamilton?" The other looked up. "Lock up this place. Don't destroy the place, alright?"  
"Yes, sir."  
The doors closed, leaving them both in the room. Jefferson met Hamilton's eyes once the younger looked up from his notes.  
"What? What, why are you staring?"  
"I'm not staring."  
"And I'm not a Hamilton," he replied sarcastically. "Why are you staring?"  
"Because you haven't looked up from your fucking notepad all day and I want to debate with you."  
"Wow, Jefferson. Never took you as one to beg for anything."  
"I ain't begging. You know you've got a point you'd like to try to defend."  
At this, Hamilton stood. He didn't like saying Jefferson was right. "I'm heading home."  
"To whom? Your wife isn't there. You have time."  
"Excuse me?"  
"All I'm saying is that we have more time to debate."  
"Oho, sure, like that's what on your mind."  
"Hamilton, what are you implying-"  
"All I'm saying is that we have more time to debate."  
Things like what had happened would go on for hours that week. The tension would heat up the room until they were screaming at each other, until someone finally broke the tension by leaving the room. This night, however, was different.  
Upon hearing the other, the two left their senate seats and stood, one in front of the other, arms crossed.  
The first thing Hamilton noticed was how tall Jefferson truly was. Cocky-ass motherfucker thought he had the right to be taller than Hamilton? _I'll show him._  
The first thing Jefferson had noticed was how stubborn Hamilton was. The smartass just had to always prove his point, huh? _Keep talking, Alexander, and I'll have to shut that pretty little mouth of yours-  
Woah. _ Jefferson stopped himself, his mind getting off-track.  
The two stood face-to-face, eyes locked, with Hamilton scowling and Jefferson's lips twitching into a smirk.  
"God, what I'd give to know what you're thinking," Hamilton mumbled.  
"What was that?"  
"I said I hate you and your entire fucking bloodline, Jefferson."  
"Sure."  
Hamilton kept eye contact, determined not to be the first to break it. "What was today's topic, anyways?"  
"Slavery."  
"Oh, I'm sure you loved talking about that."  
"If you weren't paying attention, let me see your notes."  
"What...?"  
"You took notes all day."  
"Those are personal."  
"What, did you doodle Laurens' name all over your notebook?" Jefferson laughed. "I bet you did, didn't you? And after what happened with Reynolds, too. You're such a-"  
"Oh, do shut up, Jefferson. I know you were fantasizing about your boyfriend all day."  
"Madison's not here."  
"I never said his name."  
Ooh, this got him mad. Jefferson took a step forwards, towering over Hamilton by a good few inches.  
"Look, Alex," he spat. "You are the most manipulative, oversensitive, twisted-minded bastard I've met."  
"Same to you. Why are you getting so worked up about this? What, your boyfriend sick again?"  
"What, your wife found out about you and Laurens again?"  
"Why can't you keep your pretty mouth shut?"  
"You think I'm pretty?" Jefferson scoffed.  
"Not for a second," Hamilton replied, his eyes partially closed. "If you would be so kind as to get off of me-"  
"I don't think I will," Jefferson continued, now putting his hand on Hamilton's chest and pushing him slightly, to the point where he was against the wall. "Don't say you haven't thought about this."  
"I haven't thought about this, no. I have thought about relieving this tension."  
"Oh? How so?"  
Hamilton leaned in slightly, examining Jefferson's face. "You know exactly how."  
And at the moment Jefferson leaned in, too, Hamilton brought his leg up and kneed Jefferson in the crotch.  
That left him on the ground.  
 _Who's taller now?_  
"My god, Jefferson, if I knew how you really felt, I'd get to do that ages ago."  
Hamilton took the key out of his pocket and tossed it on the ground next to the pained man.  
"Lock up when you're done crying."  
And with that, he left for home, the both of them silently wishing Hamilton had just made the move he wanted to. Though, he had to admit, that was certainly a Hamilton way to deal with things.


	2. Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing Hamilton would have loved more than to punch Jefferson in his pretty little face. (A continuation of the previous chapter, please read it before coming here.)

God, the tension in the room could have killed someone. The next day, of course, wasn't really as bad, but some tension still reigned. Hamilton had left, and Jefferson had purposefully 'forgotten' to lock up, getting the other in trouble with George. That made him smile. The two went home, writing sweet things to Eliza and Madison, describing their day -- or, at least, the parts they wanted to say.  
Upon arriving to work the next day, Hamilton found himself mumbling insults under his breath. Not towards himself, of course. He had to practice. For Jefferson. Jefferson found himself doing the same, working on little things, small comebacks, schoolyard taunts and responses to follow. The two nearly crossed paths, if Hamilton hadn't have struck up a conversation with Laurens on the way down to the courtroom. Today's topic?  
"Office relationships." An ooh rings through the crowd of peers. Some laugh. Some pale. Washington calls them all to attention.  
"This will not be voted on. This is a personal matter, and will be decided on singularly, by me, specifically. This isn't practice anymore, friends. As our government is focused on unmovable subjects at the moment, we may as well focus on-"  
"This is idiotic," rang a voice from the crowd. Everyone turned to look, noticing a young man in the back who was soon recognized as James Reynolds, drunk off his ass once more. He wasn't a politician, no, but he worked in the same office.  
"Someone get him out of here," Washington called.  
"Oh, come off it, Georgie," he slurred. "We all know Laurens and Hamilton have a thing for each other. Madison and Jefferson, too. No matter what you do or say, those whores-"  
"Mister Reynolds, please-"  
"Let me finish! Those-"  
And with that, someone grabbed him by his collar and pulled him out of the room. Hamilton, red as anything, cleared his throat.  
"Uh, w-we should get to the debate, sir."  
"Yes, I agree." Washington shook his head. "I apologize for the inconveniences. We will resume."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"AND ANOTHER THING-"  
"Hamilton."  
"EVEN IF IT WAS ALLOWED, THE PSYCHOLOGICAL-"  
"HAMILTON. Your sixty second mark ended four minutes ago."  
"Sir, please, if you let me get to this point-"  
"Someone shut off his microphone."  
Jefferson couldn't help from laughing. God, Hamilton was hilarious to watch. Being considerably taller, he looked down at the man, who was red in the face shouting, trying to get a point across. He's the kind of guy who thinks a summary is ten paragraphs. Honestly, it was... kind of cute.  
_Wait. Whaaaat._  
He shook his head, his hair flouncing over his shoulders.  
"Secretary Jefferson, if you would close this meeting." Washington motioned to the podium, which Jefferson took smoothly.  
"This meeting has been adjourned. We will reconvene tomorrow to pick up where we left off."  
"Court dismissed."  
The room cleared as quickly as it had filled, with some people staying behind to talk, others eager to get home. Jefferson stayed behind, of course, eyeing Hamilton subtly.  
Alexander pulled Laurens to a corner, who tilted his head.  
"What, what's wrong?"  
"It's Jefferson."  
"What about him?"  
"I think- I think... I think he's, like- ugh, nevermind."  
"Wh- nevermind?! Alexander, you can't just end a sentence there. C'mon, don't leave me hanging."  
"I think he might have-he might have a thing for me."  
Laurens broke out into fits of laughter. "Wh-you- have you been drinking?"  
"I-no! He was just looking at me weird today."  
"You think Thomas Jefferson, the politician who's despised you since you've first met, has a thing for you, his worst enemy?"  
"You know what, you're right. It's stupid, forget it-"  
"No, no! It's kinda cute. You could totally use this against him!"  
"Wait, wait, you're confusing. First off, it's not cute. It's weird, I think... and, uh, no. If I accuse him of crushing on me, he'll turn that against me somehow."  
"Oh, true, true. Hey, stop by my place tonight. We can discuss this, and a lot of other stuff. Besides, I haven't had you over in a while. I'd like to talk."  
"Should I write Eliza?"  
"What, like text her?"  
"She likes it when I write letters."  
"No, Jesus, no. That'll take too long. Just come over. No one has to know."  
Jefferson looked down at this, collecting his things and walking out the door. He felt... something odd. Not jealously. _I'm not jealous, that's not a thing I can do. Besides, what's there to be jealous of? I mean, sure, I wanted to debate Hamilton tonight, but I'm not jealous of Laurens taking his time away. God, I just wanted one solid, clean debate with him. One minute, maybe._  
_Wait, I sound desperate. I'm not his wife. I don't need Hamilton at my side._  
Yet, he went home and wrote more about him. See, from any other point of view, they'd seem like an old married couple. They both had notes, either online or on parchment (like the old timer Alexander was), about each other, mostly describing things like the tone of their voice or what they wore. A few cut excerpts would almost seem romantic.  
"Jefferson wore all pink today. Why? Why does he look like that? Is he trying to look attractive? It's not working."  
"Hamilton gave me this look all day. I don't know what it was, but I felt smaller than him. That's so weird, he's so weird."  
Each note was something along those lines, and honestly, it was odd how much time they spend together for "arch enemies."  
Hamilton slept over at Laurens' place that night, talking, writing, and doing a lot more.  
Both Hamilton and Jefferson wished to debate that night, or at least see the other. Something was compelling. Maybe it was the fact that they hadn't seen each other for most of the day, maybe not. One thought was on their minds, though.  
_I hate that him, but I kind of miss his stupid face._

_God, I can't wait to see him tomorrow._

_What an asshole._


End file.
